In the Hour of Victory
Page 11
Admiral J. Jervis to E. Nepean, 16 Feb 1797
VICTORY IN LAGOS BAY
16TH FEBRUARY 1797.
Victory
Britannia
Barfleur
Prince George
Blenheim
Namur
Captain
Goliath
Excellent
Orion
Colossus
Egmont
Culloden
Irresistible
Diadem
Guns
Salvador del Mundo
112
San Josef
112
San Nicolas
80
San Ysidro
74
Sir
The hopes of falling in with the Spanish Fleet, expressed in my letter to you of the 13th instant, were confirmed that night, by our distinctly hearing the report of their signal guns, and by intelligence received from Captain Foote of His Majesty’s Ship the Niger, who had with equal judgment and perseverance, kept company with them for several days, on my prescribed Rendezvous (which, from the strong South East winds, I had never been able to reach) and that they were not more than the distance of three or four leagues from us: I anxiously awaited the dawn of day, when, being on the Starboard tack, Cape St. Vincent bearing EbN. eight leagues, I had the satisfaction of seeing a number of Ships extending from South West to South, the wind then at West and by South. At 49 minutes past ten, the weather being extremely hazey, le bonne Citoyenne made the Signal that the Ships seen were of the Line, twenty five in number. His Majesty’s Squadron under my command, consisting of the fifteen Ships of the Line named in the margin, happily formed in the most compact Order of Sailing in two lines: by carrying a press of sail I was fortunate in getting in with the Enemy’s Fleet, at half past eleven o’clock, before it had time to connect and form in regular Order of Battle: Such a moment was not to be lost, and, confident in the skill, valour, and discipline of the Officers and men I had the happiness to command, and judging that the honor of His Majesty’s Arms, and the circumstances of the war in these Seas required a considerable degree of enterprize, I felt myself justified in departing from the regular system, and passing through their Fleet, in a line formed with the utmost celerity, tacked, and thereby separated one third from the main body, after a partial cannonade, which prevented their rejunction ’til the evening; and by the very great exertions of the Ships, which had the good fortune to arrive up with the enemy on the larboard tack, the ships named in the margin were captured, and the Action ceased about five o’clock in the evening.
I enclose the most correct list I have been able to obtain of the Spanish Fleet opposed to me, amounting to twenty seven sail of the Line; and an account of the killed and wounded in His Majesty’s Ships, as well as in those taken from the enemy: The moment the latter (almost totally dismasted) and His Majesty’s Ships the Captain and Culloden, are in a state to put to sea, I shall avail myself of the first favourable wind to proceed off Cape St. Vincent in my way to Lisbon, notwithstanding the intelligence contained in the accompanying letter, which I have just received from Captain Berkley of His Majesty’s Ship the Emerald.
I am
Sir
Your most Obedient humble
servant
Jervis
P.S. Captain Calder, whose able assistance has greatly contributed to the public service during my Command, is the Bearer of this, and will more particularly describe to My Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty the movements of the squadron on the 14th and the present state of it.
Jervis
EVAN NEPEAN ESR.
That’s it! There is no mention of the vigorous Spanish attack against the British fleet as they tacked in the gap between the two groups of Spanish ships, or of the subsequent British attack against the northern section of the Spanish fleet. There is no mention at all of Nelson or, indeed, of any other captain, many of whom performed quite brilliantly. In fact the only person mentioned at all in relation to his performance is Jervis’s flag captain, Robert Calder. Jervis wrote another, private, letter to Lord Spencer on the following day in which he was a little more detailed and even slightly apologetic for the reticence of his official dispatch, beginning with an attempt at explanation: ‘The conduct of every Officer and man in the Squadron on the 14th inst. Made it improper to distinguish one more than another in my public Letter ...’8 In this second letter, Troubridge, Nelson, Collingwood, Berry, Hallowell, Lieutenants Spicer and Noble and Jervis’s Rear Admiral, William Parker, were singled out, but very briefly indeed, and the letter was never published.
So how were the details of the battle discovered? The answer lies with Nelson. Just as he insisted, contrary to all tradition, on boarding those Spanish ships himself to share in the glory, so did he now insist on taking control over the telling of the tale. This was by no means a matter of sudden inspiration. Nelson was well practised at writing descriptions of engagements in his own hand, and he did so in a style that was colourful, fluent and generous to those with whom he had fought. His description of his then most recent battle against two Spanish frigates is a case in point. He wrote those dispatches with publication in the London Gazette in mind because, in his own words, ‘It is what I know the English like [in a Gazette]’.9 He certainly knew how to play to a crowd and lavished praise on his men.
‘Lieutenant Culverhouse, the first lieutenant, is an old officer of very distinguished merit. Lieutenants Hardy, [William Hall] Gage, and Noble deserve every praise which gallantry and zeal justly entitle them to, as do every other officer and man in the ship. You will observe, sir, I am sure with regret, amongst the wounded, Lieutenant James Noble, who quitted the Captain to serve with me, and whose merits and repeated wounds received in fighting the enemies of our country entitle him to every reward which a grateful nation can bestow.’10
Nelson’s description of his action at St Vincent was in much the same vein and is one of the most detailed and extraordinary contemporary narratives of a battle. It captured the public’s imagination, and rightly so. He gave it the wonderfully modest title ‘A few marks relative to myself in the Captain, in which my pendant was flying, on the most glorious Valentine’s day, 1797’. Here is an excerpt, which seems positively outlandish when compared with Jervis’s austere and brief dispatch.
‘The soldiers of the 69th Regiment with an alacrity which will ever do them credit, and Lieutenant Pierson of the same Regiment, were among the foremost in this service. The first man who jumped into the enemy’s mizzen chains was Captain Berry, late my First Lieutenant; (Captain Miller was in the very act of going also, but I directed him to remain;) he was supported from our spritsail yard, which hooked into the mizzen rigging. A soldier of the 61st regiment having broke the upper quarter-gallery window, jumped in, followed by myself and others as fast as possible. I found the cabin door fastened, and some Spanish officers fired their pistols; but having broke open the doors, the soldiers fired, and the Spanish Brigadier (Commodore with a distinguishing pennant) fell, as retreating to the quarter deck, on the larboard side, near the wheel. Having pushed onto the quarter deck, I found Captain Berry in possession of the poop, and the Spanish ensign hauling down. I passed with my people and Lieutenant Pierson on to the larboard gangway to the forecastle, where I met two or three Spanish officer prisoners to my seamen, and they delivered me their swords.
At this moment a fire of pistols or muskets opened from the admiral’s stern gallery of the San Josef; I directed the soldiers to fire into her stern; and, calling to Captain Miller, ordered him to send more men into the San Nicolas, and directed my people to board the First Rate, which was done in an instant, Captain Berry assisting me into the main chains. At this moment a Spanish officer looked over from the quarter-deck rail and said “they surrendered”; from this most welcome intelligence it was not long before I was on the quarter-deck, when the Spanish Captain, with a bow, presented me his Sword, and said the Admiral was dying of his wounds below.
I asked him, on his honour, if the ship was surrendered? he declared she was; on which I gave him my hand, and desired him to call his Officers and Ship’s company, and tell them of it – which he did; and on the quarter-deck of a Spanish First Rate extravagant as the story may seem, did I receive the Swords of the vanquished Spaniards; which, as I received, I gave to William Fearney, one of my barge-men, who put them with the greatest sangfroid under his arm.’
Here is compelling description, and its detail gives the reader a fine perception of the events unfolding and the names of the actors. Here is bravery, astonishment, a little humour, bashfulness, pride and courage, all presented as a flowing narrative. Nelson even wrote a comic ‘recipe’ for cooking Spaniards, which included advice on ‘battering and basting them for an hour’ to make certain that they were ‘well seasoned ... stewed and blended together’. This was brilliant stuff; no wonder the public loved it. In obvious contrast with Jervis, and more than any other admiral, Nelson was a wordsmith. It is a major, but often overlooked, factor in his subsequent fame.
Nelson was also exceptionally cunning in the way that he ensured that his version of events was seen first, and then by the largest audience, beautifully outmanoeuvring Robert Calder, the bearer of Jervis’s dispatch. On board the Lively, the frigate which was carrying Calder to England, was one Gilbert Eliot, a friend of Nelson’s and a talented career politician. Before she left, Nelson visited the Lively and hatched a plan with Eliot. One of Eliot’s influential friends was William Windham, the Secretary for War. Windham was also the MP for Norwich. Nelson, who was himself from Norfolk, sent the sword of the captured Spanish Rear-Admiral Don Xavier Francisco Winthuysen to the city of Norwich as a gift, thus allowing the bearer of the sword, a Lieutenant Pierson, to make contact with Windham. Nelson, of course, ensured that Pierson also took with him a copy of his personal narrative. As a result Nelson’s version of events was seen by Windham in London, discussed by him with Lord Spencer, the First Lord of the Admiralty, and then shown by the latter to the King, all before anyone had seen Jervis’s version, carried by Calder. Nelson had pulled off a perfectly executed and quite deliberate PR coup and his fame grew exponentially thereafter.
For all its comparative lack of colour, however, Jervis’s dispatch raises numerous important questions. We know from several sources that his fleet was bound together by great comradeship and that he was warm towards his fellow sailors, so why did he neglect to name any of the men who were so deserving? His dispatch is not completely dry, because he does pay lip service to his fleet by showing how he was ‘confident in the skill, valour, and discipline of the Officers and men I had [the] happiness to command’, but he fails to name anyone in particular. We may never know the exact reason for this omission, but several things could have influenced him.
The most obvious and most easily proved explanation is that Jervis hated writing dispatches. ‘I would much rather have an action with the enemy than detail one,’11 he later wrote in a huff and was careful to empower Robert Calder in his dispatch to ‘more particularly describe to My Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty the movements of the squadron on the 14th and the present state of it’. Perhaps, however, his reluctance stemmed also from a distaste for bureaucracy or from a desire to avoid the trap into which Howe had fallen after The Glorious First of June, when he had given some captains but not others the blessing of his written word. Jervis therefore tried to avoid potential upset by naming no one in his battle dispatch, but only after he had first made quite certain that his sailors knew the depth of his pride and the extent of his gratitude. Indeed, in the immediate aftermath of the battle the following eloquent message was passed to every captain:
‘No language I am possessed of can convey the high sense I entertain of the exemplary conduct of the flag officers, captains, officers, seamen, marines and soldiers, embarked on board every ship of the squadron I have the honour to command, present at the vigorous and successful attack made upon the fleet of Spain on the 14th instant. The signal advantage obtained by His Majesty’s arms on that day is entirely owing to their determined valour and discipline; and I request that you will accept yourself, and give my thanks and approbation to those composing the crew of the ship under your command, I am, Sir, your most humble servant, J. Jervis.’12
Jervis was always supportive of anyone who had performed well for him, in any guise. He once said himself, ‘I have never forsaken a man who served well under me,’13 and there is plenty of evidence to support that statement. On one occasion, a sailor spoiled £6 in notes whilst washing his clothes, the equivalent of a full five months’ pay, and Jervis replaced the money from his own pocket. We also know, of course, that he not only thanked Nelson but did so by taking him ‘in his arms’.14 That is not the act of a cold man.
Jervis’s dispatch to the Admiralty, though surprising, must not, therefore, be read as evidence that he was an uncaring or ungrateful commander. On the contrary, this battle stands out from so many in the Age of Sail because there is no hint that Jervis was angry with any of his captains. As Nelson’s flag captain, Ralph Miller, declared, ‘I will only say that among the pleasant things of this glorious day one considerable one is there being no drawback, nobody against whom there is a breath of Censure.’15 And that is the sign of a fleet sailing in harmony under strong and compassionate leadership. Collingwood, who had suffered so much as a result of his omission from Howe’s dispatch, praised St Vincent. He wrote: ‘What is particularly happy to this great event is that there is no drawback, no slander – though all were not equally engaged, all did what was in their power to reduce them, and I understand the Admiral has wisely avoided all partial praise of those whose ill luck prevented their getting into conspicuous situations.’16
It is possible that another influence on Jervis’s composition was Robert Calder. One contemporary explanation argued that Jervis actually did write a detailed narrative of the battle, but was pressured by Calder into rewriting it to leave out any names.17 There is no evidence to support this, though there is an interesting parallel with The Glorious First of June when, it was rumoured, Howe, at the instigation of his flag captain, called off the chase of the French fleet when they were beaten, resulting in the escape of several French ships. Both of these examples make the Admiral look weak by suggesting that he acted under pressure from a junior officer, and it is possible that they were manufactured for political reasons.
Jervis’s dispatch made some readers very angry because it was unsatisfying, and perhaps because it was deliberately crafted to be so. Furthermore, Nelson’s account irritated other captains because it magnified his role at the expense of others. Most irritated was Rear-Admiral William Parker of the Prince George, who firmly believed that the mighty First Rate San José was actually his prize. Parker had beaten her to silence before she crashed into the San Nicolas, allowing Nelson to secure the prize without a fight. It is another reminder that Nelson’s rise to the status of hero was not achieved without casualties, one of which was the truth. Parker was by no means alone in his criticism of Nelson, and the First Lord even waded in with this attempt to calm tempers:
‘The variation in the accounts of an action at sea by different persons are so easily and naturally to be accounted for by the different situations in which the writers are at times placed ... that it is neither necessary nor fair to draw an inference from them that any intention has existed of disparaging the conduct of others.’18
This dispatch-writing business was trouble from start to finish.
For all that Jervis’s dispatch fails to mention, however, it does tell us three important things. First, we learn from it that Jervis knew that the Spanish were out, that he was actively searching for them and that he had ‘hopes’ of falling in with them. We know from his journal that he had been prepared for battle for more than 24 hours, since 14.10 p.m. on 12 February, long before Nelson joined him on the morning of the 13th after the heart-stopping experience of accidentally sailing through the middle of the Spanis
h fleet in the night. By then Jervis was so convinced there would be a battle that the final toast at dinner in the Victory on the 13th was ‘Victory over the Dons in the battle from which they cannot escape tomorrow!’19 From the early morning of 12 February, therefore, Jervis’s fleet was well formed while his network of frigates worked overtime to locate the enemy. The Spanish, in contrast, had no idea that Jervis was nearby; indeed, they thought he was in Lisbon. They were completely unaware that they were sailing into a trap.
Second, Jervis makes no mention at all of the mercury ships or, indeed, of any type of merchant ship. This is not so surprising; such valuable merchantmen would have been armed and may even have been made to look exactly like warships to discourage any nosy captain with piratical instincts. The implication is important, however. Jervis genuinely believed that he was facing 25, and he later says 27, warships, a fleet that far outnumbered his own 15. And what warships they were. One was the Santissima Trinidad, the largest warship in the world, armed with 136 guns on four decks, and there were six three-deckers of 112 guns. All seven of these Spanish First Rates were larger than any British ship in the fleet. Lieutenant Henry Edgell of the Victory climbed aloft to have a good look at them. ‘They loom like Beachy Head in a fog,’ he said. ‘By my soul, they are thumpers.’20